“How’d the meeting with Doc Scroggins go, we gonna toss him?”
Such a crude way with words. “We’re not tossing anyone, dear. Not just yet.” She flinched. The pain. Like little bolts of lightning behind her eyes. She took a shaky sip from the cup. “I’ve got the Doctor performing a small task for me.”
“He’s gonna fuck it up, wanna bet, bro?” Toby kicked at his brother with the side of his boot.
“Language! Language! Language!” Mother grasped the corners of the desk as if she were gathering the strength to flip it across the room.
“Sorry, Mother.” Toby dropped his chin towards his chest, causing the fat around his neck to donut out in sweaty rings.
Zach took up the mantle, carefully. “So, Mother, about Scroggins?”
“Yes, well,” she composed herself, rubbing her hands across the front of her thighs, “it’s about that boy, Colton.”
Toby jumped up and down, shaking the room, and raising his hands in celebration. “Yeah, yeah, I saw that little… I saw him coming out of her house… her bedroom window. I saw it.”
More lightning. Another drink. Such a simple creature. “Yes, I know, son, I know. I’ve got him looking into it.”
“So, if Toby saw it, why do you have the Doc looking into it? Let’s just grab Colton and the whore and make them take the Fall.”
Toby rubbed his hands together as if warming them over a fire.
They see nothing. They’re so blind. Only good for one thing. “It’s a test.”
Toby and Zach looked to each other and then back to Mother.
Vacant.
“There have been questions,” she rotated her hand in tiny circles, trying to coach them towards the answer, “regarding the Doctor’s faith?”
They both shook their heads.
“Oh for the love… I want to see if he’ll give them up to me or if he’ll try to cover their indiscretions.”
“We already know he’ll cover it up, we saw how he did with Micah and Susanna.”
“There were questions there. There were complications, as you well know,” she said, giving Zach a hard look. “This will make things more… clear.”
“I like it, a test, let’s see if old Doc Scroggins is up to no good,” Toby said, bobbing his upper body back and forth to some invisible beat.
Mother looked up from her hands, pulling the bottom of her eyelids down with the tips of her fingers, exposing the blood red tissue beneath. “Keep an eye on him. Follow him. See what he does. Can you do that?”
“What do you want us to do if he’s…” Zach snapped his fingers, searching for the words.
“Covering for them?” Mother raised her eyebrows.
“Yeah, what do you want us to do?”
“Well,” Mother stared into the chalice and watched her reflection wiggle across the glossy surface of the liquid, “that’s the question, isn’t it? The big one. What do we do with Doctor Blake Scroggins if he is the heretic I suspect?”
“Shoot him down like a dog.” Toby racked an invisible shotgun.
“The people love a good Fall,” Zach said.
Mother shook her head. “No, we can’t. Not with Scroggins.” She jumped her elbows up onto the desk and pointed an index finger at each of them. “If you catch Scroggins trying to cover this up, you deal with him quickly and quietly. I never want to see his body. No one is to ever know what happened. He just… disappears. Do you understand? That man holds power, people like him. I will not risk a rebellion. If I’ve made myself clear, just nod your heads.”
They both nodded. Toby with big jowl jiggling neck cranks. Zach with a quick tip of his chin.
“Okay, get out of here.”
Simple creatures.
Colton waited until Blake was out of sight before he threw down his saw and dismissed himself from the work crew.
Mother knew, about him and Kati… she knew.
Sending Blake had been a poor cover. The old man may as well have been wearing a sign with his intentions printed across the face.
It was fine.
Totally fine.
He and Kati had talked about this. They’d planned for it.
Just… not so soon.
She’d be working the greenhouse. He had to warn her. Make sure she was ready to pack and go. Colton had it all planned out. But they had to go tonight. It was their only shot.
He slowed his jog once he hit the square. He kept his head down. His hands in his pockets. He stepped up onto the front stoop of the general store and pressed his back against the wall. He could hear Llewyn inside, whistling away, oblivious to the world.
Colton checked his sightlines.
No Blake. No Zach. No Toby.
No one paying him any special attention as far as he could tell. The only one that seemed to notice him was old lady Harriet. She was standing on the outskirts of the hustle and bustle to avoid getting trampled, using one hand to balance on her walking stick as she swung a freshly plucked turnip in the other.
Colton ducked into an alley that separated the greenhouse from the general store. The ground, muddy from the water runoff, sucked incessantly at his shoes. The greenhouse was a simple tent structure with a wire frame, propped up by a set of wooden poles. He was caked to his ankles by the time he reached the back entrance. He pushed the plastic aside and crept in. The air was oppressive. His lungs shrank. Each breath was a battle. His clothes became twice as heavy and twice as small. He quickly pushed the discomfort to the back of his mind. His main concern was ensuring that Kati was alone. Her mother sometimes joined her for the shift whenever she grew tired of being stuck indoors. He inched his head up over the nearest table. Parting the planter boxes with the backs of his hands.
There she was.
Kati.
Alone.
She was watering down a row of vegetables, massaging the young leaves between her fingers. Her red hair was frizzy. The apron she wore was streaked with dirt. But she was smiling. That heart squeezing, stomach dropping smile that had drawn him to her months ago, even as he’d attempted to grasp on to every handle and foothold created by the Oath of Celibacy.
He sprang up from his cover. She spooked and banged into the table behind her. She dropped her watering can and flattened her hands against her chest, as if trying to keep her heart from leaping out and running away.
“Colton, what are you doing here?” She set the bucket down, threw off her apron, and ran into his arms. “You scared me, you jerk.” She kissed him.
Once. Twice.
Hard.
Her hands tracing the lines of his face.
“I’m sorry, I had to see you.”
“What’s wrong, Colton? Tell me, what’s wrong?”
“It’s time, sweetheart.”
“No, but we’ve been careful…”
“I know we have. But Mother knows.”
“What? She spoke to you? Why are you here if she knows?” She was scared now. She let loose of Colton and twisted around as if she were going to break for the front door. “Are they coming for me next?”
“No, it wasn’t her. She sent the doctor around to see me.”
“Doctor Scroggins? Why would she send him?”
“Listen, I don’t know, okay. But it’s just… the things he was saying. They know, alright.”
There were tears in her eyes now. “What are we going to do?”
He wrapped his arms around the back of her neck, the earthy scent of her hair filling his nostrils. “Exactly what we planned. We leave. Tonight.”
She shook her head, her breath catching in her throat. “No, no,” she tried to pull away but he held her, his arms now clasped around her lower back, “what if we don’t have to? We could just go to Mother, tell her everything, and do the ceremony. We can be together. We can conceive, I know we can.” She was unraveling. The plan was unraveling.
“Kati, no, listen to yourself. We’ve talked about this. What if we can’t? Huh, then what? It’s not like we’ll be able to escape. It�
��ll be too late. They watch you close while you’re trying. To make sure you’re not going to spook. I can’t risk losing you. I can’t bear to see you take the Fall.”
The sobs now came in big uncontrolled waves. “This is happening so fast. I’m scared. My mom… my dad… I’m scared.”
She was growing heavy in his arms. He kissed the top of her head. “I know sweetie, I know. I’m scared too. Believe me. We’ll see them again. I promise you. But we’ve got to get out of here first. After that, I’ll think of something.”
Somewhere in his words she found comfort. “Okay,” she blinked the remaining tears away, “what do I need to do?”
“You’ve got to act normal. Finish up here. When you go home tonight, pack your bag and I’ll come get you.”
She nodded rapidly. “I can do that.”
“I’ve got to go now before someone catches us. See you tonight my love. It’s going to be okay.”
He broke from her grasp, holding her gaze until his back touched the tent flap. She blew him a kiss as he slipped quietly back into the muddy alleyway.
10
The sun was just sinking over the horizon; the hazy outline of the inn presented itself in the distance. As they moved up the bumpy path, they came across a young boy. He was tending to a herd of goats milling around a small feed trough. They were bucking their heads and bleating loudly. He stood and offered a delicate wave. “Hey there, folks.”
“Hey yourself, kid. You work the inn?” Dominic reached out to one of the goats gathered beneath the small, wooden overhang and scrubbed at its bristly head.
“My pa works it, I work the goats.” The boy pushed one of the goats aside with his leg and crouched to lift another heavy pale of feed into the trough; his scrawny arms strained against the weight.
“Here, let me get that for you, kid.” Dominic nudged him back, grabbed the metal pale from the bottom, and flipped it over into the trough. The goats recoiled at the initial splashdown but quickly recovered and fought their way back in, knocking the bucket aside with their bony heads. “The damned things act like they haven’t eaten in a week.”
“That was kind of you, mister.”
Dominic dropped the empty bucket into the boy’s arms and slapped his hands clean across the front of his duster. “Don’t mention it.”
“Is there anyone up there right now?” Lerah asked.
“Just my pa.”
“No guests?”
“Nope, just my pa. I’m sure he’d be glad to have you.”
“Alright, kid. Thanks.” Dominic resumed the hike towards the small inn at the top of the hill.
Patches of dry brown grass sat off to their left and right; the earth’s attempt at reviving itself.
“Breakfast, it’s gonna be goat’s milk and gruel, wanna bet?”
Dominic shook his head. “I don’t make bets I know I’m gonna lose. Besides, what’s wrong with goat’s milk and gruel?”
“Is that a serious question?”
“I grew up on it.” Dominic shrugged. “Made me the man I am today.”
“That’s your endorsement?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I think I’ll be skipping breakfast.”
“Just means more for me.” He winked at her as they stepped onto the porch. A lantern cast a small pool of yellow light across the floorboards. Clay pots, bearing withered plants, hung from the rafters. Dominic stamped his feet against the planks.
Sturdy. Beaten to hell, but sturdy.
“Are you going to check the walls for rot, too?”
“There’s much to be said for a stout structure.” Dominic had another go at the floorboards. The empty pots began to sway. “We were staying in this little rat hole of a building during the war. One night the entire top floor gave out while we were sleeping, the damndest thing. I was fortunate enough to be up top. One guy below us, he wasn’t so fortunate. He took a beam right through the throat.”
Lerah scrubbed at her eyes. “You know, that’s splendid. Great story. However, I don’t think that’s going to happen to us tonight. Let’s just get a damn room.”
“After you.” Dominic motioned for the door.
It swung open before she could reach it.
The man on the other side was a wilted fella. His skinny arms were crossed tightly over his chicken chest. His face was puckered. Folds of cracked, leather skin were gathered around his eyes, nose, and mouth. He smacked his lips twice as he took them in, exposing toothless gums. “What’s with all the racket?”
“I apologize, sir; I was just admiring your inn, built nice and strong.”
“Admirin’? By tryin’ to punch a hole through the floor?”
“No sir, no. You see—”
Lerah held a finger to Dominic’s lips and approached the old man, her femininity on full display. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s a bit of an oaf. He works with his hands—”
“Don’t we all?” the old man said.
“Yes, well, he has a keen interest in all things… structural. Anyway, we talked to your boy down there—”
“Is he still working them goats?”
“He was, yes.”
“Little bastard is slower than a one legged dog with a noose around its neck.” The old man found himself quite the joker. He slapped at his knees and buckled over in the doorway, laughing, coughing, and spitting some unidentifiable goop at his feet.
Lerah looked ill.
Even Dominic felt a little twist in his belly.
“Yes, so, um, he mentioned that you had rooms available.”
The old man nodded and turned, still laughing and coughing, but now motioning for them to follow.
They were both careful to step around the slime he’d deposited on the ground.
“Go ahead; shut that damn door, will ya?”
Dominic kicked it closed with the heel of his boot.
The inn boasted a modest, slightly rundown décor. There were two small wooden tables, topped with hand carved mugs and candles eating through the last of their wax. There was a pile of dusty books on a knee high shelf, built right into the wall beneath the front window. There was an old piano in one corner that looked like it might collapse into a heap of sticks and ivory if someone so much as touched it, and a set of narrow stairs disappearing into the ceiling.
The old man took his place behind the counter and slapped a ledger down on the surface, the pages stained yellow. “I’m Ezra. I didn’t catch ya’ll’s names.”
“I’m Dominic and this is Lerah.”
“Well, pleasure meeting you folks. How many nights will ya’ll be staying?”
“Just one, we’ve got to set out early.”
Ezra focused in on Lerah and the hardware strapped across her back, as if he were just seeing her for the first time.
“We got a problem?” Dominic moved Lerah back, standing in Ezra’s line of sight.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“That’s a fancy piece she’s carrying. I’m guessing by the bulge in your jacket you’ve got something similar. You two folks Union?”
Dominic leaned forward and grasped the edge of the counter. He set his jaw and returned the old man’s steely gaze. “Now, what would make you go off and ask something crazy like that?”
“I wasn’t talking about you, big boy. I was mostly talking about the girl. You’re Outlander, through and through, that much is obvious. She… well… she’s too clean. No seasoning to her. Smells like Union. Ain’t no Union welcome in my inn.” If Dominic knew one thing about old folks, it was that they didn’t scare easy, especially Outlanders. They’d seen it all. They’d done it all. If a lifetime in the Wastes didn’t break them, there wasn’t much that could.
“Well, if you know I’m an Outlander, then you know I wouldn’t work with some Union cunt. I’m actually getting offended with how you’re talking about my wife, old man. Now, here’s the deal, we’re just two travelers looking for a roof, nothing more. I’ll give you the coin. Yo
u give me a key. We’ll call it a night. Square deal?” Dominic leaned in as close as he could, without going over the counter.
Ezra made a show of sucking at his gums and scanning the ledger. “I guess it’ll work, so long as you got the coin.”
“We’ve got the coin. Honey?” Dominic stepped away and let Lerah present the two pieces needed to procure the room as he unhooked their canteens. “Have your boy fill these up for us.”
“Sure thing.” He took a key from one of the three hooks behind his head and slid it across the counter. “First room, up there on your left.”
“‘Honey?” Lerah hissed as they made their way up the stairs.
“What, you don’t like it? What pet name would you prefer?”
“Want me to knife you in your sleep?”
“We’ve really got to work on your foreplay, babe.”
She watched him. He was hovering over a small wooden table, unloading and loading the magazines on each of his weapons, examining each bullet for imperfections. A cigarette hung from his lips, dripping ash and embers with each turn of his head. He’d shed his duster. The sleeves of the shirt beneath it rode high across his biceps. His arms were a series of scars and ropey veins, tied tight around thick posts of hard muscle.
“You’re sleeping on the floor, right?” Lerah tossed her jacket across the mattress and began removing the guns and knives from her body.
“That doesn’t seem very husbandly of me.” Dominic’s tongue worked back and forth across his lips as he held the rifle up against the candle light and racked the slide.
“Well, seeing as how we’re not actually married—”
“Appearances, my dear, appearances.”
“We’ve made our appearances, bad enough we’re stuck in the same room.”
“Yeah, well, don’t go patting yourself on the back. That old timer pretty much made you for Union.” He reloaded the rifle, stood, and removed his shirt. He was all sharp edges and olive skin; pure sinew. His chest was a hard sheet of iron set above a washboard of cold, cascading steel. She’d seen him without clothes before, hanging in the dungeons, but that was different.
The Fall of Man: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 1 Page 10
